Amos Parr, however, gave it a
lance-thrust that caused it to howl vehemently, and dyed the foam with
its blood.
"Hand me a spear, Buzzby," cried Saunders; "the musket-balls seem to
hurt him as little as peas. Oot o' my gait."
The second mate made a rush so tremendous that something awful would
infallibly have resulted, had he not struck his foot against a bit of
ice and fallen violently on his breast. The impetus with which he had
started shot him forward till his head was within a foot of the walrus's
grim muzzle. For one moment the animal looked at the man, as if it were
surprised at his audacity, and then it recommenced its frantic
struggles, snorting blood, and foam, and water into Saunders's face as
he scrambled out of its way. Immediately after, Awatok fixed another
harpoon in its side, and it dived again.
The struggle that ensued was tremendous, and the result seemed for a
long time to be doubtful. Again and again shots were fired and
spear-thrusts made with effect, but the huge creature seemed
invulnerable. Its ferocity and strength remained unabated, while the
men--sailors and Esquimau alike--were nearly exhausted. The battle had
now lasted three hours; the men were panting from exertion; the walrus,
still bellowing, was clinging to the edge of the ice, which for several
yards round the hole was covered with blood and foam.
"Wot a brute it is!" said Buzzby, sitting down on a lump of ice and
looking at it in despair.
Pages:
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235